


Grand pianos crash together (when my boy walks down the street)

by abbylabby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I am ridiculous forgive me, I have gotten ridiculously attached to Freedom(Idaho), M/M, choosing song titles as titles for your fic for ominous reasons, slightly cracky, things that will never happen but should
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbylabby/pseuds/abbylabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets his way, Cas gets new clothes and Dean hates everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand pianos crash together (when my boy walks down the street)

**Author's Note:**

> I think it was set somewhere in season 6. After Sam was back from hell, but he never actually lost his soul, so erm AU it seems. You can tell I really thought this through.  
> Can I just say that I'm pleased as punch that Cas is actually doing the whole 'joining the boys' thing on the show? because I am. Though it's not going down quite the way I had imagined it.  
> Shame.  
> I'm not sure this qualifies as crack, but I'm a little ridiculous on principle, so it might.

Dean had known that it was a stupid idea.

From the get-go. And he'd told them. Repeatedly. But had they listened? of course they hadn't.

To be fair: Sam never listened to his big brother and Cas had developed the annoying habit of doing the same, but still.

Dean buried his face in his hands and thought 'what has my life become?' a thought he had entertained far too often for his liking in the past couple of days.

It had all started three days ago, when Cas had announced his decision to remain with them permanently and to join them in their hunts.

Sam and Dean had been surpised, but not unpleasantly so.

With the apocalypse out of the way, they had pretty much expected Castiel to return to heaven for good and for them to never see him again.

The had accepted it, thought they had been somewhat bitter about it, especially Dean. You may think that the Winchesters would eventually get used to all their friends and family leaving them, but losing someone you love is not something that ever stops hurting.

So when Cas had made his little speech about 'their noble mission that he wanted to be a part of, if they would allow it', Dean's throat might have closed up a little, but a quick glance to his little borther showed him that Sam felt much the same way and Dean suppressed the urge to make a joke about Cas' formality for the sake of keeping his masculinity intact and wordlessly pulled Cas in a gruff one-armed hug.

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't protest.

The hug lasted all of five seconds, before Dean deemed it enough and realeased him.

His place had been taken almost immediately by Sam, who went in for a full hug, that reminded Dean faintly of an octopus grappling a rock, since Sam seemed to inexplicably possess about eight arms and Cas was entirely unmoving in his surprise. It was kinda funny actually.

So it had been decided that Castiel would join the family business and really, it was almost like having another brother. A badass brother with wings and angelic mojo, but a brother none the less.

So it stood to reason, that Sam and Dean, as his 'brothers', would be the ones to ensure Castiel fit in with other humans.

They started the whole process(an elaborate ploy, sophistically named 'plan to make Cas seem more human')by subjecting Cas to copious amounts of daytime television.

Dean insisted 'Dr Sexy' be a big part of this, because 'shut up! it's a great show. It tells stories about people, Sam.  _You wouldn't understand_.'

Castiel seemed more confused than anything, by the complex relationships between the characters('but I thought Nurse Jackie loved Dr.Sexy?' 'No, dude, she just pretended, to help Dr. Sexy make Nurse Consuelo jealous. Nurse Jackie is in love with Mr. Reyers, the comatose from room 221.' 'Oh, I see.' 'Shhhhh! dude, oh my god, Nurse Consuelo is going to confront the doctor! Man, this show is amazing!')

After three days, which saw Mr. Reyers awaken from his coma, falling in love with Nurse Jackie, only to be pushed down a flight of stairs by the evil janitor, a twist that had Dean screaming at the little crappy television in their motel room in outrage, Sam deemed Cas ready for 'the next step'.

This step involved getting less suspicious clothes for Castiel.

Dean tried to argue with that, because the trenchcoat was kind of awesome, the way it would flap dramatically in the wind and also it kinda screamed 'superhero in disguise'.

Cas shyly threw in, that he had grown 'rather fond' of his,  _Jimmy's_ , outfit.

Sam was undeterrable. He insisted that in order to blend in to human society Cas would need new clothes and that was the end of it.

Which it wasn't, as far as Dean was concerned and they ended up in a shouting match, in which Dean accused Sam of 'using Cas as a dress-up doll! if you want to dress someone up so badly, buy a new outfit for your Barbie', which unsurprisingly did nothing to calm Sam down. After a gratuitous round of 'bitch', 'jerk', Cas silenced them both with his mojo.

'Just. Be quiet. Both of you. Let it rest. If it's so important to Sam, I will aquire new clothes' he said, somewhat exasperatedly.

Sam's eyebrows shot up in triumph while Dean did his best to refrain from pouting, because pouting wasn't manly goddammit and frankly he'd rather die than give Sammy the satisfaction.

Cas released the hold of their vocal chords and immediately Dean went on a rambly monologue about how stupid an idea it was, and a waste of money and _did he mention 'stupid'?_

Sam ignored him and dragged Cas to the Impala, for the shopping.

Dean watched them leave with a mix of frustration and amusement. Damn Sam for always getting his way, but Cas had _not_ looked happy.

Hard to believe that this guy who was currently bullied into clothes-shopping(because Sam was _such_ a girl, he added in his mind)was actually a powerful creature, who could smite evil sons of bitches with a look.

'Oh how the mighty have fallen' he exclaimed to the room in general, before turning on Dr. Sexy. Nurse Jackie currently had the janitor locked up in her basement to get him to confess his crimes. Once more Dean thought that the show really deserved that Emmy.

Meanwhile the Impala rumbled to a halt in the parking lot of Freedom, Idaho's mall.

Sam exited the car, rubbing his hands together excitedly, Cas following closely behind, significantly less happy-looking.

In the past, their hunts had led them to malls on more than one occasion, but either Cas hadn't been with them then or maybe he had forgotten about it, because Castiel, angel of the Lord, soldier, bamf, was currently completely overwhelmed.

He gazed around at the masses of people, shuffling through the shops reminscent of a herd of cattle. Only with less purpose.

Sam gleefully dragged Castiel through every. single. clothes store.

And in each one he'd enlist the help of a young exciteable shop-assistant, to 'help his friend Cas here find some new clothes' which had been met with enthusiasm of varying degrees.

It wasn't until the last shop, forever 21 of all places, that they actually bought something.

The teenage girl they appproached there, her nametag read 'Candi', almost wet herself with excitement and started mumbling things that sounded suspiciously like 'makeover' and 'skinny jeans. Definitely skinny jeans.'

387.57$ later found them exiting the shop, carrying two bags full  nearly to the point of bursting.

'I don't enjoy shopping' Cas stated, clutching the bags on his lap as they drove back to the motel, looking rather miserable.

Sam just laughed with the satisfaction of a job well-done.

And the prospect of Dean's scandalized face to look forward to.

Dean didn't disappoint.

'No.' he pulled the offending pieces of clothing out of the bags one by one.

'No'. 'No. 'Oh god, no!'. ''No'. 'What the hell, Sammy?' He held up a pair of dark blue skinny jeans 'I mean, whatever, they're pants, but' he dropped the jeans in favour of a bright pink t-shirt that looked like it might fit a 12-year old girl.

'Seriously Sam?  _Seriously?_ '

Sam just laughed at Dean's appalled face. ' I didn't know you read Vogue now. Well, everybody is a critic these days, eh Cas?'

Castiel gave him a pained smile, before blushing and snatching something out of Dean's hand that looked suspiciously like a thong, before stammering something unentilligible and disappearing in the tiny bathroom.

Dean's eyebrows were so high on his forehead, they blended seamlessly into his hairline.

'Was that a...?' he trailed off.

Sam took a gleeful breath to tell his brother that yes, it had indeed been a thong, with the american flag on it(God Bless America!), when Dean cut him off.

'No, don't say a word. I.' he buried his face in his hands 'I can't believe we're related.' A slightly hysterical giggle escaped from behind his hands.

'An angel of the Lord in a thong, you're  _so_  going to hell.' after a beat he added 'again' and proceeded to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

Sam simply stuck out his tongue at Dean. He was the mature one after all.

Castiel took his sweet time, which was good, because it gave Dean sufficient time to compose himself. In fact, it was long enough that he got bored and switched on the television.

Sam retreated to his laptop and did some research. Probably.

Sam spent a lot of time at his laptop.  
 _A lot of it_.

Dean figured that porn was probably involved in _some_ way. But that was a thought he didn't really want to get into, because awkward ~.

The sound of the bathroom-door opening roused him from his ponderings about Sam's internet history and when he turned around to face Castiel,  _all_ rational thought evaded him.

Sam abandoned his 'research' to exclaim a heartfelt 'Wow!'.

Dean managed to nod his head once, in agreement, He had not yet regained the ability to speak.

Castiel was indeed 'wow'. He had forgone the pink shirt, thank fuck!, instead he was wearing a clinging black shirt with a pattern of coloured blocks that made Dean feel vaguely nauseous just looking at it.

Beneath this atrocity of a shirt were the lowest-cut, skinniest skinny jeans that Dean had ever laid eyes on.

And he'd seen his fair share of loose women who'd squeezed into too-tight pants while on the prowl.

There was skin-tight, and then there was Cas' pants.

To round it off, the angel was wearing those weird sneakers with a star on the side, that were all the rage with the kids, or so Dean assumed.

They had a skull and cross-bones pattern.

Hysteria rose in Dean's throat.

Thank god there was no full-length mirror in the room, because Cas would probably smite them if he saw what they'd turned him into.

Well, to be fair, it had only been Sam really. Speaking of the devil.

Dean avoided Cas' questioning gaze and turned his eyes to his little brother.

And immediately did a double-take, but the picture remained the same:

Sam had his hands clasped together, as if in prayer, staring at Cas like he was the most marvelous thing he’d ever seen. And were those…? Were those tears glinting in his eyes?

Whatever Dean had been about to say died in his throat.

Of course Sam would enjoy this. Of course he would.

Castiel cleared his throat.

Dean focused his attention back on the angel.

His hunter indicts kicked in. Damage control. Right.

Sam took a deep breath to say something, undoubtedly stupid, and was silenced by a swift kick to the shin.

Cas frowned at the display of violence, but brotherly roughness had always been a mystery to him, so he didn’t remark on it.

‘Cas!’ Dean started. And then stopped, at a loss how to go on.

So he repeated ‘Cas, Cas, Cas.’ feeling more like an idiot by the second.

He was silenced(which was probably for  the better, all things considered) by a sharp stab in his ribcage, courtesy of Sam’s elbow.

‘You look like a whole new person!’ Sam exclaimed, exuberance only slightly marred by a brief display of the bitchface towards his brother.

‘That shirt clings in all the right places. And those pants! Candi really knows her stuff!’

Dean lost a few seconds, when he reminisced about a girl he’s once met. Kandy had possessed quite a pair and when his eyes focused back on the secene, Sam had gotten off the bed and walked over to Cas to examine him more closely.

It wasn’t just looking either, Sam was running his hands over the fabric of Cas’ shirt and not rushed, no sir, Sam took his time.

And the way he looked at Cas…

Dean would rather be anywhere else. But at the same time, there was a vague feeling he couldn’t quite place, something tugging just at the very seam of his consciousness.

A familiar feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while.

As Dean struggled to identify the emotion, Sam’s fingers kept nimbly tracing the pattern of Cas’ shirt.

Castiel drew in a sharp breath, when Sam’s thumbs repeatedly slid over his nipples.

Sam visibly started. His eyes and mouth opened in horror, when he realized what he’d been doing. He looked not unlike a deer caught in the headlights, fully expecting angelic fury to strike him down.

Cas’ eyes were half-lidded and against all logic, he didn’t look like he was going to smite anybody.

‘That was’ he cocked his head to the side, considering ‘pleasurable’.

Sam looked gobsmacked, but regained his composure at remarkable speed, a pleased expression taking over his face, with just a hint of smugness.

‘Well, in that case…’and he took up his caressing again.

I mean, come on, who even uses the word ‘caress’?

And with his ridiculously big stupid hands there was no telling…Dean stopped mid-thought, because he’d finally managed to place the feeling:

It was jealousy. It was exactly like when they were younger and Sam had taken his Batman action figure. Dad had told Dean to ‘get over it. You’re too old for it anyway. Let Sammy here have his fun’.

Well, John wasn’t around now.

‘Sammy!’ he yelled, probably too loud, considering he was less than 2 feet away from the spectacle.

Sam’s hands froze where they were resting on Cas’ waist, a development that Dean did not approve of.  ‘ _What_ do you think you’re doing?’ Dean asked sharply, crossing his arms over his chest for emphasis.

In his defence: if Sam’s blush was anything to go by, he’d probably forgotten that Dean even existed, much less in the same room. HOW WAS THAT REDEEMING EXACTLY?

Oh nevermind.

‘What the hell, Dean? I’m obviously…’ he shut up really quickly, when he realized that he had no idea what the fuck he’d been doing.

The Winchester brothers launched into epic-stare-down mode. Which would later turn into namecalling, there would be ‘bitch’ and ‘jerk’s and if that didn’t relieve the tension, there was always the possibility of a good old-fashioned fistfight. Standard procedure in such matters.

But not this time.

Because Castiel had realized that he enjoyed being petted, or stroked, or even  _caressed_ , if you want to go there, and he was not pleased, that the person in charge of the petting was getting distracted.

He cleared his throat, but no one took any notice of that, so with a sigh Cas resorted to grabbing their attention in the way that always worked:

All the lightbulbs in the room burts in a shower of glass and sparks, the television changed channels so rapidly that the images blended into each other and little balls of fire floated around the brothers.

Their eyes, after assessing the situation, trained almost immediately on Castiel.

‘Stop it!’ Castiel glared at them ‘You can argue later. What are you even arguing about?’ his gaze intensified tenfold and zoomed in on Dean, like he knew that it was Dean who had the problem.

Dean shuffled uncomfortably.

Bickering he could do, actually talking about a problem? Not so much.

But not saying anything might actually be even worse than the whole feelings-shebang.

So Dean talked, feeling very much like a little child that doesn’t want to share his favourite toy, he tried to convey that he was not okay with Sam touching  _his_  angel. ‘I mean, come on Sammy, We share a profound bond! He pulled me out of hell for fuck’s sake!’ Dean waved his arms around for emphasis.

Sam, who’d taken up petting up and down Cas’ sides, heroically tried to suppress his grin and failed.

‘What’s so funny?’ Dean demanded, following the progress of Sam’s fingers with his eyes.

‘It’s just…dude…you’re so jealous! And I’m not even doing anything! How did you ever get out of that strip-club without killing one of those poor girls who dared so much as look at Cas?’ Sam threw his long floppy hair back in a display of mirth that was nothing short of disgusting, if you asked Dean.

Could someone ask him please, so that he could answer?

But of course no one did. Jerks.

‘Look, Sam: I’m not saying stop doing whatever you’re doing’ though I totally am ‘but’ he gesticulated vaguely to Cas(whose eyes were half-closed again and who seemed to be having rather a good time)’I think that I should somehow be  _involved_ ’ he gesticulated some more, for good measure.

Sam’s shit-eating grin was nothing short of indecent.

‘Oooh,  Dean wants  _in_  on the lovin’’ he sing-songed in a tone that made Dean vow to shave of Sam’s sideburns the very second Sam closed his eyes that night.

But before Sam could say anything else that might result in the loss of something rather more important than his sideburns,  _he was rather peculiar about his plaid shirts_ , Castiel interrupted them:

‘You are more than welcome to join’ he declared solemnly.

Possible contra from Sam was silenced with mojo(the resulting bitchface could probably be seen from space) and Dean very willingly joined his brother in petting their angel.

It was weird. Of course it was.

Two humans petting an angel of the lord like a kitty cat, ‘weird’ doesn’t even  _begin_  to cover it.

But. But there was also a certain rightness to it.

And when they fell asleep that night, all huddled together in one crappy little motel bed, they slept more peacefully than they had in a long time.

That day marked the beginning of their problems though.

Because Castiel insisted on wearing his new clothes.

In itself, that wouldn’t be a problem, but it turned everybody around them into sex-starved lunatics, if you asked Dean.

Which was still something, that no one ever did. Jerks.

Damn Cas and his fantastically skintight ‘leave absolutely nothing to the imagination’ clothes! Curse Sam and his makeover cravings!

Curse that Kandy who…Kandy. Bless her. Her and her enormous knockers.

Anyway.

It wasn’t Cas’ fantastic ass that was the problem, or his beautifully sculpted legs, his well-toned arms, or his adorable little tummy. Not even his pecs, that could make a grown man weep (they had proof of that, since Sam had filmed it on his cameraphone).

All those factors had become rather a big part of Dean’s day-to-day happiness every since their discovery. Or ‘uncovery’ to be precise. Heh.

Anyway. Yes, it wasn’t Cas who was the problem.

It was the horny and frankly insane people around them who were the problem.

‘People’ being the keyword.

Cas didn’t just attract women, no Sir, Cas could make men, who had been happily married for 10 years (to a woman!), look twice.

And no amount of Dr Sexy could teach Cas enough about human interactions that he would spot the thinly-veiled attempts at flirting directed at him from every corner. He remained irritatingly polite and kind towards the people, no matter how lecherous their looks were.

Did that do anything to dissuade his admirers? Nope. If anything, it spurred them on more.

Dean spent most of his time staring menacingly at everybody around them.

Of course Sam thought the whole thing was hilarious.

Then  _it_  happened. The final straw. The cherry on top of a pie filled with ridiculousness.

It was the third day after the makeover.

They were still in Freedom, Idaho, investigating a chain of disappearances.

They weren’t even doing anything special.

They were walking down a street.

Walking. Down. A. Street.

Castiel in the lead, the Winchester brothers closely behind him.

Dean may or may not have hung back to get a chance to ogle Cas’ butt.

Okay. So he totally did. Sue him.

The problem wasn’t Dean.

The problem were the employees of ‘Sheldon’s World of Piano’, which were in the process of unloading the contents of a delivery van and rolling/lifting the pianos in the shop.

At least that’s what they were doing until they caught sight of Castiel.

A reverend silence descended upon the previously merrily chatting workers.

The Winchester’s didn’t take any notice of it, Dean, because he was too busy looking at Cas and Sam, because he was above such things.

Mary Hogan, employee at Sheldon’s for 25 years, married with 3 children, was to be the domino to trip all the others.

Literally.

The sight of the angel sent her heart into overdrive and her memories flying back to happier times, when her husband had been in similar shape. These days her husband had no discernible shape to speak of.

With the shadow of times gone by fogging up her view, she missed the crucial step that would have meant for none of this to happen.

As it was, she missed, her feet met nothing but air and she lost her balance.

The piano she’d been lifting crashed down with a sickening crack.

Alesha Summers, employee at Sheldon’s for a mere 2 months, who’d been holding up the other end, wasn’t able to lift the grand concert piano(Eschenbach, 15k) by herself and had just enough time to jump out of the way.

In a frankly terrifying display, the piano leaned over, overbalanced and crashed down the steps.

The clanking grabbed the attention of the next employees in line, causing them to flee immediately. Which was good for them, but rather bad for the pianos.

It also managed to grab Cas, Dean and Sam’s attention.

They looked over just in time to watch the Eschenbach crash into a Schoppenhauer(12.5k), which in turn crashed into a miniature organ(Heidenpfeiffer, a mere 8 k).

In seconds the street was littered in ivory and organ pipes.

A chorus of wailing employees completed the picture.

It was a sight that Dean prayed to god he’d never have to see again.

They were just about to pass the mess, when an older woman stabbed an accusing finger in their direction.

‘It was him! He distracted me! It’s all his fault!!’, her stubby finger was pointed at Cas.

The gathered crowd turned towards them as one and their creased brows smoothed collectively.

A soft ‘oh.’ Filled the air. Eyes were glazing over, cheeks heated, throats were cleared.

‘Oh you’ve got to be kidding me’ Dean murmured under his breath. ‘Cas! I need you to fix this.’

Castiel turned big, blue, guileless eyes on him.

‘Of course’ he agreed readily and with the blink of an eye, the pianos were back in one piece and the employees of Sheldon’s went about their merry way.

As merry as you can be, when your work involves lifting heavy objects.

They returned swiftly to their motel room after that.

‘I don’t see how it was my fault, Dean’ Cas said petulantly, after Dean had glared at him for the better part of five minutes, he was sitting on a bed, arms crossed and honest to god, pouting.

‘Cas, you…’ Dean started, but got distracted by the way Cas’ collarbone peeked out of his shirt.

‘Oh son of a bitch!’ he pressed out between clenched teeth, while Sam was rolling around on the other bed in fits of laughter. Jerk.

‘I will not stop wearing these clothes, Dean’ Castiel told Dean matter-of-factly.

‘But whyyyyyy?’ Dean will deny that he sounded like a whiny brat, until his dying day.

‘Because I like the way you look at me now’

Oh.

Sam’s laughter died abruptly in his throat. ‘I, er, I have to, erm, something’ he finished lamely and only took a few seconds to grab his wallet, before he rushed out, long hair flopping in his wake.

Sam’s departure gave Dean some time to collect himself and think of a snappy response. He came up with nothing.

As it turns out, he didn’t have to.

Castiel saw Dean’s stunned, but definitely pleased face, and decided that was all the answer he needed.

He hugged Dean tentatively and Dean held on like he never wanted to let go again.

 

Castiel went back to wearing his trenchcoat, which sufficiently covered up his new clothes, when they were out in public.

In the privacy of the Impala, or their motel-room, it would come off and they’d be subject to Cas in all his skintight glory.

Between Cas’ flirtive glances and Dean’s lecherous leering, Sam kind of wanted to kill himself, a problem that became much less acute, when he got his own room.

Far away from Cas and Dean’s room. Because there were some things about his brother and his angel, that Sam  _did not need to know_.

But overall he was pretty smug about the whole affair.

Cas and Dean didn’t even care.

 

THE END


End file.
